Teacher of the Imperial Family’s Bastard - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Subjugation Battle (2)

After experiencing the miracle of my regression, I made two resolutions.

First, I would make the Pharos family the most glorious, for the sake of my sister’s happiness.

Second, I would never go back to the military.

The second decision came naturally as I recalled my bitter past.

Not just the imprisonment, but the endless training, the battles, and the forced communal life didn’t suit me at all.

I even thought that if the empire had been a bit more stable, I might have preferred staying in prison.

I would never go back.

That was my vow, but now my second vow was colliding with the first.

What was I supposed to do?

Isn’t it obvious?

Vow number one is more important than vow number two.

“My lord, the southern region is said to be quite sunny, so you must bring a wide-brimmed hat, even if it’s embarrassing. Good skin is a valuable asset in high society. Oh, and here’s a magic water bottle that holds ice. It can’t generate more ice, so use it to cool the water. Also…”

Upon hearing of my departure, my sister began packing my things one by one.

Her care was so thorough, it reminded me of mothers sending their sons off to the imperial army.

No, it was precisely that situation.

A worried sister, an impending enlistment, and my grim expression—everything fit together perfectly.

“…Sister, that’s too much stuff.”

“You must take it. Your health is an important matter for the entire family.”

One wagon was nearly filled with my baggage.

Was this really necessary?

I gave a bitter smile and responded.

“Let’s leave out the bedding.”

“You need comfortable bedding for a good night’s sleep…”

“Sister, I sleep in a sleeping bag. I don’t need blankets.”

“How could that be…”

My sister looked horrified.

Ah, she truly is a noblewoman.

‘Should I tell her that I sometimes sleep directly on the ground?’

I decided to keep that detail to myself.

* * *

Though there was still some time before the Empire Day celebration, the imperial capital was already in a festive mood, for good reason.

“Let the departure ceremony begin!”

Bwaah!

This year’s celebration was special because it marked the coming-of-age ceremony of Callios.

And today, it was also the day of the “Rite of Resistance,” a subjugation campaign that hadn’t occurred in nearly half a century.

The streets were packed with people, so much so that if you weren’t careful, you could get swept away by the crowd.

Some might wonder why so many people would gather for just a departure ceremony, but in a way, it was to be expected.

Everyone in the empire grew up hearing the legends of the founding emperor.

Many boys dreamed of becoming heroes like him, and many girls hoped for a love as beautiful as that of the first empress.

This ceremony stirred those childhood dreams in everyone, adding an emotional layer to its historical significance.

And that’s not all.

Since it was a ceremonial departure, the procession was grand.

The Empire’s First Knight Order led the way, with Sword Master Drenor appointed as the commander.

The first princess and the crown prince’s retainers were also at the center of the procession, and leading it all was…

“Dad! It’s the prince!”

“Yes, and the man beside him is Lord Pharos!”

“Master!”

“Yes! They’ll defeat the Orc Lord just like the founding emperor and Lord Pharos did!”

“Whoa…!”

Callios, and right behind him, Yuren.

The two, dressed in splendid ceremonial attire, stirred the crowd.

Especially the young boys who dreamed of becoming heroes.

“Wooooaaaah!!!”

Old and young alike raised their voices in cheers.

At the head of the procession, Callios smiled gracefully and waved his hand.

Thus, the subjugation army departed the imperial palace, leaving behind the cheers of the empire’s citizens and the sound of grand trumpets.

Only when those sounds faded completely did Erilda speak at a clearing.

“Now, let’s change clothes.”

The show was over; it was time to return to reality.

Callios and Yuren dismounted and began stripping off their ceremonial attire.

Yuren grumbled.

“Ugh, I thought I was going to die from discomfort.”

“Ceremonial attire is always like that.”

“I know.”

“…You know, I am the crown prince. Is it really appropriate to speak to me so disrespectfully?”

“Is it appropriate for a prince to use the word ‘disrespect’ with his master?”

“…Ah.”

The other knights and retainers did the same, gathering in small groups to remove their white robes, donning simpler clothing before loading their ceremonial attire into a wagon and sending it back to the palace.

This subjugation campaign had a strong ceremonial aspect, so much attention was paid to appearances.

Hence, the tiresome post-event hassle.

But when they recalled the earlier cheers, no one complained except Yuren.

Meanwhile, Erilda, after checking the supplies, gave orders.

“Alright, you lot return through the north gate. The south gate will still be crowded. The procession will stop here for a meal before heading out, so get things ready.”

Erilda was the strategist for this campaign.

Although there were many other qualified individuals, she had personally decided to participate for one major reason.

Her eyes landed on Yuren.

‘That man is just too unreliable.’

Yuren was sitting on the ground, rummaging through the supplies with no trace of nobility in his actions.

The capital’s most notorious troublemaker, and the crown prince’s master.

A man who somehow managed to combine two incompatible qualities.

Though Callios seemed to trust him completely, Erilda had several reasons to remain skeptical.

The first reason was Yuren’s past actions.

There’s no need to explain further.

It goes without saying.

But Erilda’s main concern was something else.

‘That man, he smiles whenever he hits Callios.’

Callios’ swordsmanship lessons were mostly sparring sessions.

As Erilda observed, she noticed something:

Yuren seemed to relieve his stress by hitting Callios.

Whether it was lingering bitterness from his kidnapping or just his nature, Erilda couldn’t help but feel that Yuren’s behavior towards the person he was supposed to serve was too much.

The second reason was his overly carefree attitude.

Didn’t he cause a scene during the last appointment ceremony?

She had begged him to behave, but even that didn’t stop him from causing trouble.

With someone like him by Callios’ side, Erilda feared the crown prince’s public image might be tarnished.

That’s why Erilda joined this subjugation campaign—to keep Yuren in check and ensure that he didn’t cause any problems.

Her goal was to turn him into a reliable asset for the crown prince.

Just then, Erilda tilted her head.

“?”

Yuren had started taking out cooking utensils from the supplies.

* * *

The cheeseburger is something that must continue to be perfected.

It may never reach the level of Hannah’s, but I must at least make something decent for the sake of my diet.

Besides, I promised Aria that I would improve my cheeseburger-making skills before I left, so I have to keep my word.

That’s why I brought the ingredients from the household servants, and I plan to practice cooking a bit with each meal.

‘Last time, the meat was too dry.’

This time, I’ll focus on preserving the juices.

I took out the minced meat.

But as it was, it wouldn’t hold together well.

I drew my family heirloom (the rod) from my waist and began pounding the meat with it.

Smack!

As expected, it felt good.

‘It’s amazing, really.’

I don’t know what kind of artifact this heirloom is, but its durability is incredible, so it’s useful in many ways.

It doesn’t get a scratch even if a sword strikes it, and if it gets dirty, it somehow cleans itself.

So, it’s perfect as a meat mallet.

It even works well as a rolling pin for flattening the meat.

‘Now…’

I just need to toast the bread and melt the cheese.

I was sitting in front of the fire, fully engrossed in my task, when I heard a familiar, exasperated voice.

“My lord.”

I looked up to see Erilda standing over me, arms crossed.

“…Yes, Your Highness?”

“What are you doing?”

“Cooking.”

Her gaze shifted to the ingredients, her expression clearly saying, ‘This is cooking?’

Was she going to interfere even in what I ate now?

As frustrating as it was, I reminded myself that this was still better than what she used to be like.

―I clearly ordered a flanking attack on the enemy’s ambush. So why did you go straight for their headquarters?

―Because your brother was heading there, so as his lieutenant, I had to follow.

―…Couldn’t you have stopped him?

―Can you stop him? And anyway, war is full of unexpected developments. How can you expect to stick to the plan and nothing else?

―…I thought you were the more reasonable one.

―If I were that reasonable, I wouldn’t have ended up in prison.

How should I put it?

She’s talented, but she’s so rigid.

And during the war, she was even worse.

‘If one plan didn’t work, she would lose her mind.’

On the other hand, the crown prince was a battle-crazed man who couldn’t rest until he slaughtered every enemy in sight.

Because of that, he often engaged in fights beyond what was planned, and that constantly clashed with Erilda’s meticulously crafted strategies.

I understood her perspective as a strategist.

You need a stable command structure to carry out operations smoothly.

Plus, she was in a position where one wrong decision could cost lives.

But in practice, war rarely unfolds exactly as you plan, so some flexibility is needed.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to adapt, which resulted in endless friction with Callios.

The only thing that bothered me was that the two who clashed weren’t the ones directly fighting.

The problem was that damn prince.

Every time, he left the reporting to me.

He ran off to avoid the nagging.

In the end, I was the one who had to fight, which is why I really didn’t get along with this woman.

‘The more I think about it, the more unfair it seems.’

In the end, wasn’t I just a victim caught in the middle?

I had one more reason to train harder for sparring.

That was the thought I had at the moment.

“The cooks are preparing the meal. At least the food is being taken care of.”

“I’m a bit picky with my taste.”

“Do you not trust the Imperial Army?”

Suddenly, my hand froze.

For some reason, those words triggered a sense of déjà vu.

—Do you not trust the Imperial Army? Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. We couldn’t even defeat a single tribe of savages, so we had to drag you out from prison. We know too. The Imperial Army is weak. It’ll collapse without you. That’s why I’m telling you this.

That day was painfully vivid, to the point of irritation.

—Especially you, Yuren. It can’t be done without you. You’re the only one who can control that damn brother of mine.

Her smiling face, so out of place, was etched in my memory.

—Live. Not me, but you.

My mouth felt bitter for no reason.

I forced the thoughts away and spoke.

“…Tell them cooking is just a hobby of mine. At least let me pick the menu.”

“…I’ll say it’s my hobby, then. At least allow me to choose the menu.”

I tried to maintain some semblance of formality, and I heard Erilda sigh.

Fortunately, she wasn’t as strict as she had been during the war.

“Do as you wish. Just avoid anything that would take too long and hinder our march.”

I glanced at her and saw her face full of irritation.

Even though she had given me permission, I kept cooking with gratitude.

But because of the earlier memories, other past events started coming to mind.

“Would you like to try some as well, Your Highness?”

“What?”

“This dish. The one I’m making.”

Erilda frowned.

It seemed she thought I was mocking her, but it was the reaction I expected.

Did I mention?

Several of the combat rations, including cheeseburgers, were invented by the convict soldier, Hanna.

This aristocratic, dignified woman refused to eat Hanna’s food, likely out of some sense of maintaining her dignity.

So I was curious.

‘Her taste can’t be that different from the Crown Prince’s.’

I had already formed a hypothesis through Aria: “Perhaps the royal family has a weakness for cheeseburgers.”

So it would be worth testing.

I’d love to see her fall for the food she once dismissed.

Just then, the meat and bread were ready.

I added some vegetables and melted cheese to create a cheeseburger.

“Please, try it. It’s delicious.”

Erilda’s eye twitched.

Then she spoke.

“This is…”

“The 3rd Princess loves this snack.”

“….”

Ah, she wouldn’t bad-mouth her sister.

Still, she’s a hundred times better than the Crown Prince.

“…Just one bite.”

What must she have been thinking?

Knowing her way of thinking, it was probably her sense of decorum—granting me respect even if she didn’t like me personally.

Erilda hesitated, staring at the cheeseburger.

Then she squeezed her eyes shut and took a bite.

Gulp!

The burger slid down her throat.

She bowed her head, her bangs hiding her expression, but I had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

‘She likes it.’

She had flinched.

Chewing, tasting the burger, she clearly wasn’t displeased.

‘Royalty likes cheeseburgers.’

The hypothesis was half-confirmed.

Now, I just needed to test it on the 2nd Prince, 3rd Prince, 2nd Princess, and the Emperor.

But for now, I had a task at hand.

“It seems you didn’t enjoy it. Since you said you’d only have one bite, there’s no need for you to finish it. Hand it over.”

I reached out my hand, and Erilda, startled, responded.

“…It’s food I’ve already taken a bite of. It wasn’t that good, but it’d be wasteful to throw it away, so I’ll finish it. You should know that food is precious during a march.”

“Huh?”

“Enjoy your meal.”

She turned away from me, and as she walked, her shoulders hunched and her head lowered.

Was she finishing the burger?

‘Her body is honest.’

I couldn’t help but feel pleased.

* * *

The expedition quickly marched south.

Since the procession included both horses and wagons, we covered a lot of ground in a short time.

In about a week, we arrived at the southern highlands.

“We’ll set up camp here. It’s easy to defend and has good access points for entering and exiting. The sightlines are excellent for guarding the area.”

It was a high point near the entrance to the highlands.

Erilda efficiently commanded the troops to set up camp.

Afterward, she gathered the officers and shared the plans for the campaign.

I also attended the meeting, under the pretense of being the Crown Prince’s mentor.

“The campaign will last for one week. Our target is ten villages near the empire’s southern border. This is the information we’ve gathered from nearby settlements….”

It wasn’t a particularly challenging task.

Why had orcs devolved into monsters?

Because they were too consumed by their battle instincts to form large, stable communities.

The larger their group, the faster they would collapse from infighting.

As such, each orc village likely had only about twenty to thirty orcs.

The total number we’d face would be, at most, around three hundred.

And with Drenor included in our forces, this mission could be accomplished while half-asleep.

“We’ll scout for more detailed information before assigning a village to the Crown Prince. Next, we’ll….”

The plan was laid out.

That evening, I continued my cheeseburger experiment.

Erilda watched me intently, and even the Crown Prince came by asking for a bite.

I refused him.

It was that kind of peaceful evening—a bit lazy, if I’m honest.

I didn’t feel like doing much, especially in the southern highlands, which were hotter and drier than the capital.

That mood only lasted for that day.

“…The scouting unit was ambushed. The enemy used a decoy strategy. They managed to return, but their injuries are severe, and they won’t be able to continue their mission.”

A decoy strategy and enemies…

That means…

“Are you saying…?”

“An orc army has appeared. A commander-level orc has emerged….”

Something that should never have happened had occurred.

———